A Second Chance, In a New Wolrd
by ChainedSnow
Summary: The night that changed everything about my future? I remember it well,the snow was falling around me covering the ground in a thin layer of white, not caring to those it affects with it's slow descent from the sky. I remember the man with golden skin leaning against the light post looking ahead to an empty street. I remember the lights,a horn, a smile, a message, a second chance.
1. Chapter 1: Driver

Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim,or the Elder scrolls series. Only the characters that I create are mine.

_First try at a story so please review ...though please go easy on me this is my first story._

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Chapter 1: Driver

The night was cold and dark, giving a feeling of deprivity as the man drove through the quiet streets. Snow was falling slowly from the sky covering everything within a layer of inch thick snow. The street lamps illuminated with a soft yellow glow, lighting the snow covered side walks and streets as the snow and ice gave off a light sparkle as the glow of the lamps hit it. Then noise suddenly broke through the siren moment as a loud bus came driving down the empty snow covered streets, it's color bright compared to the rust adorning much of the sides and back of the blue bus as it continued down it's track through the white covered streets.

_Why me? _thought the driver of the cold bus, continuing its track through the cold deserted streets on what to him felt like a very ominous night.

Wilson Terono was not happy, about many things in his life at the moment, one of which was driving the old rusty bus through the quiet street, in the light snow covered streets of his home city. Why? You may be asking this question to your self right now. Why would he be in such a fowl mood on such a beautiful night such as this, with everything from the tops of the buildings to the smallest branch on the trees covered in a dashing white finish? easy. This was supposed to be the start one of his few early weekends. His mood at the beginning of that day was rather up lifting...as well as lazy.

Wilson had slept most, if not all the morning away, wasting away that Thursday as he usefully did which involved over a dozen bags of Doritos cheddar cheese chips and a full case of twelve mountain dew cans filled with it's brand specific soda and a T.v. blaring away to what ever show he chose to watch. This was to be the beginning of one of the best _early _weekends, though that was not going to be the case on this particular day. There he was wasting away the day on his old couch riddled with old stains of the past and small holes with the fluff ,that was used to make the couch comfortable, being visible and in some cases protruding out of the slight breach in fabric. Yep things were looking up for Wilson for once, not that he wasn't unlucky, but recent..._events_ have proved other wise. That is until his boss called telling him he had to pull an all-nighter. Why? Because a man Wilson knew very _very _well had called in...sick.

" LIKE HELL HE IS!" he rebuttaled, yelling into the phone hoping to somehow blow out his bosses eardrum out of his yelling rage.

"_sigh..._look i know today was supposed to be your day o-"stared the man on the other end of the phone only to be answered by not so happy 28 year old man.

"YOU BET YOUR ASS IT'S MY DAY OFF!" the man having to pull the company supplied phone away from his ear ,when he heard the very angry bus driver started yelling again into the other end of the phone.

"BESIDES YOU-YOUYOU...YOu...you know he does this on purpose" the man known as Wilson boss relaxing slightly at the sound of Wilson's voice shifting from that of psychotic rage to a more annoyed tone, still angry mind you, but a very less _loud_ annoyed tone.

"Maybe" the boss said in a tired tone "...but he didn't call in this time, apparently the kid some how got himself a girlfriend, she called in saying Jake couldn't come in saying he had been up since 3 a.m. puking his guts out"

"So whether you like it or not you are manning the 7 o'clock shift till midnight-and don't say get someone else! You and I both know you are one of the few people that actually know the damned route with out having to use the stupid GPS."

Wilson tried the ague with his boss, but already new the out come, because if working for him for at-least a good couple years have taught him anything about his boss, it's that once his mind is made up it's made up...that and since he had done this route so many times, one of the main reasons for his early weekends, he had _unfortunately _in this case memorized the entire route, though the only reasons why most of the other drivers didn't want this route was because of all the twists and turns as well as the extremely long streets that almost never seemed to end...and the time you had to drive. A small chuckle escaped his tired light hazel nut bearded face, remembering the down hill battle with his boss over the phone.

_"Damn I 'm tired__" _Mentally groaning as he continued down the darken night and snow filled street, sleep still wanting to embrace his mind like a warm blanket.

Wilson was then stirred from his bland boredom as he heard the soft ring of church bells coming from his pocket, slowly taking one hand off the wheel, never moving his eyes from the seemingly never ending straight splotch of snowed down asphalt. He felt his hands grip the hunk of plastic as he brought it out of his pocket moving it in the middle of his steering wheel. Looking down he saw in his hand an Iphone with the little green flashing phone button staring him in his tired face, as he swiped his meaty thumb over it he looked down to see he had gotten a text message from a fellow bus driver.

A bus driver that was currently supposed to be sick and puking his guts out.

"Hope u don't mind filling in for my shift old man-" he was already getting annoyed by the message "-just wanted to say thanks so have a nice night!" Wilson was slightly confused by this, he usually got stupid jokes or the random motivational poster, that hell even _he_ will admit was more times then most humorous, but a message like this from Jake...not a message that actually wasn't a joke and actually serious was a rarity he thought he would never see. THAT, is until he scrolled down to see the _rest_ of the message.

If his body was able to, there would be jets of steam rivaling a steam train belowing out of his ears.

"P.S. I know i will ;)" this caption was then followed by a picture of a _very_ healthy looking Jake Earnings, the picture showing that he had taken the picture himself while siting on the couch, an arm holding up his phone while the other was around his girlfriend, his head turned towards her as he planted a kiss on the red heads cheek a single eye looking back at the camera and through that, at him.

"Why that son of a bit-" Wilson started talking in a quit voice lased with angry, rage, and venom all directed and promising pain towards the one that sent that message...only to be brought back when, out of his peripheral vision, his eyes saw his speedometer hitting 97 miles an hour. That and a man in a black sweat shirt standing in the middle of the road. His eyes going wide with shock and fear, instantly hitting the breaks with all the force his tired frame of a body could muster,he felt the buses wheels screech as the stopped moving slowing the bus to an extent, or he would have if the street was not covered in a layer of snow. Instead of screeching to a halt the buses old worn down tires merely skidded across the ice and snow covered street. He realized that while one hand griped his steering wheel with an unrecoverable iron grip the other that had once held the phone now not only drop it but had slammed into the wheels horn with all his might. though fear still gripping his his body like the hand of death, it made time slow in front of his eyes making him take in every detail, every guilt renching detail of the scene infront of him. That's when saw the man now knowing that it was not a man...hell not even close.

It was a kid.

Well teenager from what he could tell...just some teenage kid in the street probably in his later teens. His clothes look old and well worn, his black sweatshirt covered his,what he could tell skinny frame telling Wilson he was very athletic or hadn't eaten in a good while he also could see a dull green shirt around his neck line. The teens pants looking no better seeing a small tear in one of the lightish blue knee's, while on his back was a green back pack and pressed tightly against the back of that was a blackish-brown guitar case, a single strap running horizontally around the teenagers chest holding the case against the back pack. The teenagers face was almost completely covered with the sweatshirts hood, Wilson only seeing from the mid nose down because of the phone held in one hand giving off an-off light to barley even see that, the other around the strap of his worn out back pack,though he could make out a few white locks of hair coming down from his head.

Then he felt the bus hit it's unfortunate target, the impact not even slowing down the skidding bus the boys body meeting hard American mad steel , killing the poor homeless boy in an instant , the sound of bones breaking and gut renching wet squishing sounds being muffled by the buses thick frame. Wilson's stomach dropped so low it felt like it hit the seat he was on. The impact with the boys ,though small and skinny frame, somehow casing the bus to start spinning uncontrollably. Wilson felt guilt hit him even harder, to him harder than the bus hit the poor kid, it hit him harder...than anything. It's this feeling that caused him to forget to get the bus under some kind of control ,to forget about the feeling of flying through the air in a few seconds as the bus cartwheels down the last few feet of snowed over road into a light post and park bench.

And to forget about seeing out of the corner of his eye, before the bus started spinning to it's wreck and his eventual coma, before hitting the unfortunate boy, a man wearing a black trench coat leaning against a light post at an intersection to his right...a man he swore had goldish skin.

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**Last note:Thx to my two friends for helping me check my spelling...and grammar, as well as giving me the courage to actually post something on this site...Even if one is a grammar Nazi, also their characters shall be introduced later in the story line.**


	2. Chapter 2: Victim

Chapter Two: Victim

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_"Nice night"_ thought the teen walking down the thinly snow covered side walk, his well worn brown shoes tracking across the covered walkway. Snow falling towards the ground slowly as the flakes danced in the soft December breeze. Snow covering everything in the small town from the top of the kind old man's hardware store to the illuminated park bench, covered also in a thin layer of snow. The teen stops as he see's this bench looking over its surface with a certain fondness. Remembering the many night's spent with it using it as a makeshift bed, as well as his go to area to play for cash when the hardware store closed for the day.

But the teen stooped, just as he was turning to continue on his way, his eye catching a small white glint coming form under the old wood bench.

_-Crunch-_

Sound of his shoes, meeting deeper snow as he made his way to the bench, the light post illuminating it it and the snow flakes drifting under it. The teen stooped a foot away from the bench, looking up to the only working light post in the old well traversed park. Light shone down illuminating the teen, as if helping the world to see the teen for the first time. He stood about six foot three claded in well worn blue jeans, a rip here and there. On his torso a black faded hoody, the hood up only allowing his faced to be seen from mid nose down. We see on his back a ragged back pack, it's green color still there though the right strap was in dis-repair. The only reaming strap held firmly in hand, and from this position we see a long almost faded green sleeve from under the black of his hoody. Also on his back a brown guitar case it's supporting strap across his chest running diagonally from his left shoulder to a little underneath his right armpit. The teen, with one hand griping the strap of the back pack and the guitar case pressing against it, bent down on one knee his head now looking under the bench seeing what cot his eye.

"_A phone?" _thought the teen as he stood. In his hand was a iPhone, a very unique looking iPhone. The teen looked at the obsidian black devise with a curious eye. Upon the screens edging black ink like markings adorned it, his fingers told him there was similar designs on the back though he felt groves meaning that the back of this phone had been carved.

"Who would carve there phone?" said the confused teen aloud, as if asking a question to the wind thinking it would give him an answer. As the teen though he remembered hearing a few kids talking about there new "smart" phones and what they could do as well as customizing them on one of the days were he would play his guitar hoping someone would put a buck or two in the case by his feet. He had heard of the kinds of "customization" that could be done to these things before but he had never heard of them being carved. He turned the phone on it's front, seeing the carved design on it's back. He could not help as he lifted a single eye brow as he saw the back of this devise. What he could only describe as runes and a language he new nothing about adorned it's surface. He had to admit it looked cool, not only that the weird rune-like writing look liked it was done by a professional. Meaning that this would be worth a good chunk of money.

_-Sigh-_

Sounded the teen as his shoulders suddenly slumped as different scenarios played in his head about the same were and how he would cash it in, mental images of him holding the green currency between his hands flashing like lights in his head. Slipping the phone in his hoodys front pocket, another sigh escaping his lungs as he did so, the hand that once held the strange phone now back in his pants pocket. He needed the money and he new it, damn did he know it. He was homeless, almost broke, and was currently trying to find a none snow covered place in town to res. As his moral compass and his feelings told him. He also new that who ever this belonged to was probably freaking out that they lost it. He would be to if he lost something worth this much, he may not know the exact cost but he knows it's worth at least a hundred dollars and up without any "customizing".

-_Grumble-_

_-Sigh-_

Sounded the teen, his stomach reminding him that he also had not eaten anything thing that day. With a small shake of his head and a little bit of adjustment for the load on his back he began his small track back to the sidewalk and then continuing his journey for a slowness spot so he could finally rest.

He never noticed the strange black trench coat wearing man was watching him in the ally across the street. Nor did he see the grin on his face as he saw the teen pocket the phone.

* * *

_thirty minutes later_

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-_GRUMBLE-_

"_I get it dammit_" he thought, thinking it with a far past annoyed tone. His stomach had been bothering him for the past half hour and had refused to shut up, he had even gone as far as finishing of his last sinkers to help sedate his hungry stomach! Yet that only added to the teens blight.

_-Sigh-_

The teen stooped his fruitless walking, he new he wasn't going to find a clear spot now, the snow had been going all day, though he still had a little bit of hope of finding one. His head raised to the sky, the clouds slowly moving as the snow flakes fell around him. He had always like the snow as well as the cold that accompanied it, thinking that it was natures why of saying this world is still mine, showing that by coating it sparkling and cold snow. Shaking his head he continued on. Only to stop a little was from the street corner.

It was just a regular street corner like any other, but leaning against the light post was...man? He could not tell for the person wore a black trench coat making it impossible to tell. He walk towards the corner making sure to be wary of the man, an looked down both sides of the . He looked back at the man how just stood there his head now tilted in his direction.

"You know the roads clear right?" said the teen in a questioning voice. The stranger chuckled lightly. It sent shivers down the boys spine. He knows that laugh and it is not one use's to laugh at a . That is a dark laugh.

One that promises pain

"Yes i know the road be clear I'm simply waiting for the...bus? yes that's what it's called bus...such a strange name" whispering the last part so that the teen could not hear, though this did not keep him from hearing him speak. The strangers mouth now visible the teen saw the wicked smile carved out of his face. His golden skin also now visible. The stranger saw the boys eyes widen a good degree, another chuckle escaped his foul mouth.

"_This is more amusing then i once thought_" though the stranger.

-Ding!-

The teen jumped as a sound was heard from his front pocket. His hand shooting from one pocket to the other to retrieve the devise that had broken his now fear full silence. He stared at the phone in his hand the screen, now on, as a message appeared. He looked over at the strange skinned man and then back at the even stranger phone.

"Might want to answer that" said the stranger with a knowing tone might be important

"Might be important" again said the stranger.

The teen still very wary started to sweat. His in-stinks telling him he should run as far and fast as he could away from him, but yet he found his feet frozen to the ground. So he could do little more than to turn his head back to then screen and read the message that was not even meant for him.

**"A soul cut in two...pain absolute...to come together one must travel... to the other...one plane...to another..."**

The voice that came from the phone, as he swiped hi thumb over the unlock, was felt through out his entire being. He felt goose bumps come up all at once, his breath short and ragged as he listened. He felt as if the voice was trying to resonate with his soul.

**"Blood of wolf...purest of pure...blood of-"**

He heard nothing. No words uttered the message stooping suddenly, as if someone had removed a part of it. He felt like he wanted to know what the strong but gentle voice was going to say but before he could do anything else but catch his breath. It continued.

**"Born from both...a child of none"**

The voice made many emotions be heard and fel. He heard the voice speak the last part barley above a whisper it tone caring regret and an unknown amount of sadness. He also felt...hate,confusion,and joy towards this vocie wanting to scream at, blaming it for all of his troubles all his pain. But yet he also wanted to cry in happiness...he had to ask.

Why?

**"To travel to the place or birth"**

Why did he feel this way?

**"One must cut tie's"**

Why did he feel so much hate...so much pain?

**"To this place first"**

He blinked his vision blurred as his eyes tiered up dripping onto the once voiced phone. He saw as purple mist faded from view reviling the crossw-

"What?" croaked out the teen, voice shaky hurt.

-SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!-

The teen saw a bus coming towards him, as e stood still in the middle of the road. The light blinding him. But before he felt pain. Agonizing pain, Out of the corner of his eye he saw the stranger with out his hood the wicked grin still there. The teens last thoughts was a single question. Even as he saw the golden skinned man speak he could not hear him, but yet he heard him-as if- he was speaking into his mind.

_"Welcome home"_

Why?

And with that he new no more.


	3. Chapter 3: Crossing

Chapter Three: The Crossing

They say when you die you go to the gates of heaven were you will be judge and either allowed through or sent to the agony burning pits of hell. Others say you will be reincarnated as a bug, or a flower. Maybe some form of bird I don't know. Though I can say one thing.

I'm either evil and or Hitler Jr...or they just got it wrong.

Pain. One word that doesn't even describe what it's meaning. My head is pounding like a heart beat made of sledge hammers in my head. My chest feels like magma is flowing into my veins, yet nitrogen takes it's place at times. Daggers, no _Swords_ impale my limbs like a machine gun with infinite ammunition. Theses eyes of mine see only darkness, the deafening sound of nothing surrounds me within this void of black. My bones feel like they had been ripped from my being, then replaced with razor sharp shrapnel, impaling my limbs like needles.

I would scream but i hear no sound, and none leaves my mouth as i yell in unadulterated agony.

_Why?...What did i do to deserve this?_

Softly speaking within my mind. Funny, I feel like screaming till my throat is raw, yet my thoughts in this head of mine feel so calm. Dark surrounds me, just like it did back then...all those years ago. Even then, when i was barely six. I knew what the dark meant. Back then it meant safety, shelter. Back then...

I knew the _meaning_ of **Hell**

* * *

"Where are they taking suzzy? my voice was innocent and young back then.

Young, innocent, eyes looking upon our..._care-taker. _Mrs. Rebeka, she acted as if i was nothing but a fly buzzing around for food. My six year old eyes once again found the small girl, seeing her being dragged by her hand through the orphanages back door. I'd see this so many times in the future that i would become numb to it. But it never set right with me.

It never would

"Did she get parents?" taking a fist full of her dress tugging lightly. She was sitting down at a same worn down table. Her cold avarice eyes focused on the green paper in her hands, a sickinedly sweet grin was planted on her face. I was ignored again, as if i was white nose not even worth being heard. I turned back in time to see the harry man plant his meaty fist on-top her hazel covered head. With a loud _thud _she hit the ground.

_Hard_

She didn't get back up

"Hey!" She shouted her head turning towards the man that smelled of garbage and something children should never know the smell of. He turned his evil eyes towards her, while mine looked on in hope.

Hope died faster than the starving fly's in that place

"Do it inside your own hovel Fucker!" Her voice was stern and full of hate.

" I didn't sell that dam brat just to clean up the mess you **_sick_** fuck's make!" Cold venom seemed to attach itself to her words. My hopes burned in the hell that place created. The man grunted, and with a single motion, grabbed suzzy and flung her over his monstoris shoulder. As he walked out the door he paused then looked over his shoulder at the greedy woman. Their eyes meet. A grin splits his face in the most unnatural ways.

"Takes one to know one" and with that left through the door.

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If I could, a grin would be sown on my face at the thought of what happened next. Or years after words at least. I'd grin because of what i did after running away from that hell hole. I'd laugh at the...thought...of...

...

...

...

...Wha?

T-t-the pain

Stopped?

The swords are gone. My blood feels normal. Bones are good...But why can't i move? Eyes that once saw darkness still do but-

_they feel shut_

\- I thought a tired but joyful voice giving life to that sound in my head.

"Hus..li...ba...y...rd...mo...cky"

_What?_ I questioned the words through my head as i regained some feeling in my limbs. They felt weak, small, like they were barley able to move. Warmth seeped through me, wrapping me in a blanket of warmth most only dream of.

"and...f...ockin...on't...word ma...aby bird"

The voice was broken and scattered like a song with parts of it missing. But it held such warmth, such _compassion. _Not to a neighbor or friend no, not even a lover. It was directed to...me?

_Why?_

"and if th...won't si...a word ma...you a lullaby"

A woman's voice

"Hush little ba...ay a word"

_Who?_

"Ma... gon...y you a baby bird"

light started to flood my vision. Small eyes opened as if for the first time gazing up at a unknown woman. Light showed through a window obscuring the view of her face. I looked past her chest to see her smile down at me as she rocked my little body back and forth. She sang to me while doing this, the words filling me with a love I never new. She looked as if she was a godess from old folk tales. The her lips stop moving. She lifted me up and planted a single tender loving kiss on my for-head. And as my memory of a lost time began to faded into the Abyss, as it started to slowly crawl into my vision I saw her lips utter words every orphan wants to her.

"I love you my son"

_...mom?_

And with that I returned to darkness and the best, most peaceful sleep I've ever had. I'd need it to, for when I wook up...

I'd be in a world only dreamt of.


	4. Chapter 4: The Prisoner

_I don't own skryim! except for the characters I create those are mine_

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**-Chapter 4: The Prisoner-**

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The floor shaking was the first thing that registered to me. Not the horribly painful throbbing going of in his head, nor the hot sore pains that seem to be clinging to my chest and limbs. It was the motion of my body lightly being shaken that first come to the for front of my rather bruised cranium. The pain slowly reseeded allowing me to attempt to remember what happened, since the last thing I remember was...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...Attempt was the key word their.

So I did what anyone would do, see what they do remember, only to barley get a damned whisper, which translates to me not knowing were I am! An of course freaking the hell out

Dear god what happened to me?!

***throb***

Suppressing a wince at the return of the damned headache I also welcomed it, the pain distracting me from freaking out or having a panic-attack. Sounds then began to register, hooves against a kind of stone, the weak sound of squeaking wheels, the sound a wooden construct shaking the cart and myself. control of my body slowly returned as well, then voices started to filter through the haze.

"...I Thin-...keing up!". It came through garbled and gunky but I heard it none the less. Ocean blue eyes opened slowly blinking to clear the strange film obscuring my view.

*Cough*-*Cough* My throat hurt, feeling like it had been ripped out then throne back in with little to no care.

"Easy Easy! Try not to move!". Said the voice, who I now recognized to be male, sounding concerned and just a bit...worried?

***COUGH*** Burning like fire my throat continued to torture me. Dry and screaming in pain it continued to cough, trying hoping to repair some kind of damage, only to make it worse. Air wouldn't come into my lungs, I couldn't Breath

**Icouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreathIcouldn'tBreath-**

"OH OBLIVION!". A voice shouted in front of me barley two feet in-front of me. Two men came at me, forcing me down to the hard wood floor that made up this carriage, holding me down trying to help me. Didn't help AT ALL, hell it made me start to-

Snow was forced down my throat

Choking on the snow hurt and I mean _hurt_. like trying to chug liquefied dry-ice. Slowly the snow melted trickling down my throat and calming the inferno of pain, the two men continuing to keep my limbs still. As the pain fled air once again was able to enter my lungs. Coughing a few more times I calmed down, cold winter air filling my lungs as I took in breath after breath, I felt myself being lifted carefully back to the seat, and two hands placed on both of my shoulders.

I looked up, my eyes no longer blinded by panic, into a dull grass green. The man was hunched over worry sown across his face blond hair ruffled and sticking out at od ends. Wearing what I can only assume is leather armor tinted blue. His hands bound together at the wrists one atop the other. looking at my right I saw another man. Dirty blond hair and concerned eyes looked onto me, siting to my immediate right. Wearing what I could only call cloths and a cloaked made from animal skins, his mouth gagged tightly.

"That's it, that's it, deep breaths kinsman try to keep that air in your lungs, try to stay calm". I exhaled and nodded, doing as the blonde man said.

"Here". Leaning down he gathers more snow and gives it to me and, almost madly, I shove it in my mouth and began eating it like rabid animal. The two men think nothing of this, war had a way of making you learn how to deal with those who have felt pain, those who have awoken in fear and terror trying to fight what is no longer their. Holding down a panicking man like this was nothing.

"W-wha-". I'am barley able to get a word out before for being interrupted suddenly.

And loudly

"QUIET BACK THEIR OR ELSE I KILL YOU LOT HERE!"

"GO TO OBLIVION IMPERIAL _SCUM_!"

"WHY YOU-"

"ENOUGH! EYES FORWARD SOLDIER!". Slowly with eyes still filled with anger and rage turned his attention back to the road ahead. During this shouting match my head traveled back and forth watching the blond man and the guard shouted at each other. only to see one of the soldiers riding a horse surrounding this cart and another to yell back and to silence the rather loud man.

"Imperials". He spat out that words as if it were a curse and a hated one at that. Around us were snow covered pines and boulder like steps of earth, and then I took my eyes away from the impressive view down to my hands which were also bound. Continuing I looked down and my heart plummeted as I inspected my clothing. While it was never much to begin with, I still held whatever clothing I could salvage dear to my heart. Like how I'd found my hoodie out-side forgotten on a a park bench with gigantic stains on it, took me almost a week of cleaning the thing to get it to look less filthy than it already was...Took a month to get the weird ass smell out.

The jeans I got from one of my former boss's in lew of a paycheck, most would argue demanding to get paid. Thing is when your only clothing option for pants is a pare of shorts being held together by blue painters tape you'd probably take the jeans anyway. My shirt? got that from another guy named Dell. Dell was...like me, a guy like any other just trying his best to survive in a cold 'only look out for your-self' world. Then we talked. Just talked about weather, sports, TV, dumb ass idiots on the internet...just talked for the longest time and it felt..good to talk to someone who knows what your going through ya now? We became quick friend...but the thing is...

Nothing last's forever no matter how much you want it to

Dell told me he was offered a job up at a construction site in Illinois talking about how it paid BIG. Before he even asked I had to turn him down this place this town...it was my home no matter how much the job paid this was the one place I felt-I KNEW was my home. Dell looked at me a little hurt. But then his trade-mark Devilish smirk, his own personal way of smiling came out and said " Ok". So on the last day in town he bet me I couldn't beat him in a race here, being the more industrial side of town to the park. I win I get the shirt, he wins I give him some of the food I scavenged. Food as in the candie bars I was able to save from the trash, a little expired ya but still good to eat. Smiling I agreed, we pick one of the square concrete tiles that made up the broken sidewalk and counting down from five sped off towards the park.

I won but barley, we spent the rest of the time just laughing and having a good time. And lastly shoes right? That is from a rather weird encounter with a rich ladys shopping spree. Apparently on her wal-strut back to her car, her manserv-butler had accidentally dropped a pair of shoes meant for her husband. I know this cause I was their, seeing the guy caring a literal mountain of useless crap for a women, which I'm sure he hate's, for what probably was a sub-pare paycheck?...Ironic for a homeless teen I know but still.

Walking over I asked if he needed help only for the old bat to spin in her heels and swat at me with her hand bag, which looked rather expensive, like some animal. So a pair of shoes accidentally falling out of the giant stack did seem rather out of place, not when I saw the guys face give me a 'thanks for trying look' then he looked down and saw the flip flops I had been using for years. I'll tell you this duck tape is an amazing thing, but it sucks to walk on. So I saw him...accidentally knocking lose a box of shoes while now have a knowing grin told me to...acquire the forgotten foot-coverings . So seeing massive holes and jagged tears strung along both my long shelved shirt and blue jeans, shoes held up thought thankfully, did not brighten my mood.

"W-w-what? w-where". My voice felt raw and sore, taking far more effort than it should to talk.

"Don't speek". blonde said," I don't know what or who gave you those wounds but by soverngarud you'r lucky". I paused at this. Wounds? What wounds? He feels sore yea but why would he have woulds. Inspecting myself again I see that each limb is covered in tightly wrapped bandages clearly visible through the large openings in my attire, blinking in slight shock I reach up with my, rather uncomfortable, bound hands also seeing the cloth covering them as well. Reaching towards my neck , I search for what might be their and tug slightly at white fabric around my neck.

My eyes found blonde's, questions filling them with a mix of fear. " You've want answers don't you?". I could only nod my hand still held to my throat feeling through the bandages at the rather unsettling amount of scares.

"To begin my name is Ralof beside's you is Skyrim's true high-king-" the guard driving the carriage scoffed with a rather disgusted noise, Ralof seemed not to notice,"-Leader of the Storamcloks"

Before he continued though I interrupted him holding up a hand. Ralof stopped talking and I began struggling to get the words out,"T-t-thank you". I thanked him and also turned to thank the other ma-Ulfric as well, it was the least I could do they probably saved my life.

Ralof smiled and nodded, then he cleared his throat. "We were going to cross the border, going to other provinces to ask for aid in the rebellion-".Our driver grumbled something under his breath, definitely not something polite,"Our camp was almost ready to go...then".Ralof looked at me and his eyes search for...something. Lines came onto his face that told me what he was going to say wasn't going-"Then we found you"-to be...pretty. Silence dominated the cart, the only sound being the turning of the wheels and the clomping of the horse hooves. Ralof continued unaware of the building that slowly began to com into focus.

"Your coat were barley rags...the rest of you...you..yu..you-you were cut to _Oblivion_!" Ralof's voice, once strong, now shook with horror. My attention was glued to Ralof, his face and the look of disgust and fear. Ralof even looked a little green, and his voice shaking made me afraid of what he would say next. I never noticed Ulfric gaining a fair off look in his eyes, nor how his hands tightened dangerously close to drawing blood.

"You were supposed to die within less than a hour". I stiffen, my back straitened and the hand still massaging my thought froze. A single thought going through my head faster than a shooting star.

I was supposed to _die_

I was supposed to be _**DEAD**_

I looked at Ralof in stunned disbelief and fear, my eyes begging him to tell me it wasn't true. That it's just a sick sick joke...Please tell me that it's a sick joke. "Ad lest that's what our healer said". Ralof continued, his eyes which had been looking away now focusing on mine again. Eyes looking for answers of their own.

"Then you began to...heal. Your wounds **knitting** back together, like-like my sister sowing a hole shut in my nephews clothes". At this point I noticed that most if not all of our escort eavesdropping on his story, I also noticed that the road leaded to a building that looked rather ominous.

"Even when the wounds shut, the healer bandaged the more severe places where he remembered them being. Said something alone the lines of just in cas-", Ralof paused in his telling after hearing one of the guards curse. One of the horsemen, who was probably listing in ran his horse into a tree. Despite everything Ralof just said the feeling of dread and paranoia that I felt wanting to take hold. Ralof and I looked at the horsemen, whose faced seemed a bit reder than before, looked at him hen breaking down laughing as hard as we can, and laughed and laughed. Not the best idea for me with my throat still being sore as hell but it was so worth it. It also seems our fellow passengers, and fellow carriage also joined in the laughter as well.

"QUIET OR BY THE EIGHT I"LL KILL YOU ALL RIGHT HERE!"

The mood then got killed. No one spoke up again, glances started being thrown my way though. Sighing I looked off into the not so distant destination. Noticing we were closer to the large stone structure, and the feeling of uncertainty stayed long after I looked away. Still made me chuckle looking over at the apple faced horseman though.

* * *

The trip turned into a nightmare. Which then turned into hell, run by the most fucked up version of the devil with the sickest sense of humor imaginable. After Ralof ignored the head guards 'Quite or else rule' he finished filling me in. Told me about the Stormcloacks reason for fighting, why they did what they did. Only during this to notice the forth member of our little

road trip. Pale and shaking like a nervousness wreak he looked at the others in the cart-myself in clouded-dressed in ratty clothing his eyes matched his hair brown...his body covered in dirt didn't help his appearance...nor did practically wetting himself either. Truth is I wasn't far behind him, because the carts had reached their destinations.

The place was called Helgen

This is were we are going to be executed

I should be scared for my life I'm being lined up for a crime I don't remember committing. I stopped, though my body moved down standing in front of the other members of our little death row cart waiting to be called on to await our own turns in being be-headed, I realized something.

My memories blank...mostly anyway. I remember Dell, I remember the hardware store, my boss, my home town-what's it's name?...Dammit!-, but besides that the things I remember are fare and few between.

"Dammit think! What do you remember!"

My internal dilemma had gained my full attention, my face having fixed a look of pure determination with my eyes skewered shut trying to remember-what I can remember. So I never noticed the man-Lokir?- trying to run , to escape. Only to have an arrow embed itself in his heart,his corpse drooped to the floor lack dead weight the arrow killing him instantly. I never noticed, nor did I notice when my body began moving forward of it's own accord, my mind finally finding the one thing-out of many- that scared me the most.

"Wait you their, step forward". Moving forward my body working on autopilot stood in front of the man. A tired man with a sad look on his face. Guy didn't want to be hear that's certain yet here he stands, dude just seems weary of...everything.

"Who are you?"

I don't know. I want to say that scream it for everyone to hear!I didn't know my own name! I was in an unknown place surrounded by people I've never heard of probably about to be sent to my death. Yet the one thing that scared me the most-

I forgot the one thing no one should be able to take from me.

The one thing left tying me to by parents. And I was happy, the last thing tying me to ones who abandoned me, who left me to suffer in that twisted hell of an orphanage. I wanted to laugh to cry, yet no such event happened.

So, as I locked eyes with the scribe, I decided that I would give myself a name-

"My name-"

One no one would _ever_ take form me.

"..is..."

So, I'd name myself for the thing I've always admired.

"Snow"

"Snow? As in the stuff?". Guard bitch said kicking up some snow in annoy."What kind of name is that?".

I smiled my eyes staring into hers without a hint of fear.

"Mine"

As I said that not I or anyone else noticed the strange spark igniting in my eyes, if they did they would not call it a spark...the would say it would be more like...

_**Frost**_

With an animal wanting to be released along side it.

* * *

**Soooooooooo...about two years without an update...not going to make some bullshit excuse. So I''ll be truthful, my life has become complicated as all hell. Trying to get into college, trying to not piss my mother off because of my slowly slipping grades. Got a job at subway WHICH I FIND ANNOYING AS ALL HELL... ya has been a long two years. So for those of you guys who have or are interested in this I'm going to put in time for this when I can.**

**This really is a story I want to make and finish. I already have everything throughout and written down I just have to...start writing more often.**

**So before I sign off I'd like to respond to my first reviewer! EyeFox!**

**Comment #1**

**Thanks for the vote of confidence, you have no idea how much this means to me.**

**Comment #2**

**Thank you again. Yes I did go back more than a few time with my best friend to correct my grammar. Truth is the chapter or chapters could of been a lot worse without his help.**

**Comment#3**

**...Man that's deep. Again thank you for the confidence, and really really sorry about the time it took me to get this out...also thank you about the title my grammar Nazi friend read your comment which he then told to me...the amount of God dam its that day as he pointed mistake after mistake has yet to forgotten. Nothing against you. Also It's a bit morbid...tiny amount.**

**One last thing to any reviews please do post anything about errors because no matter how many times I go over these some times I just over look stuff**

**Thank you again**

**Chained Snow**


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